


My Battlements Are Strong

by dedougal



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Domestic, Fluff, Future Fic, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-07-06
Updated: 2014-07-06
Packaged: 2018-02-07 18:42:42
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,404
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1909650
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/dedougal/pseuds/dedougal
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Stiles usually stopped past his classroom when he was at the school on business, so Derek was a little bit accustomed to looking up and seeing him standing there in his uniform, hands resting on his belt, just nodding in the door.</p>
            </blockquote>





	My Battlements Are Strong

**Author's Note:**

  * For [gracerene](https://archiveofourown.org/users/gracerene/gifts).



> GraceRene asked me for some Teacher/Student but that's not something I can write. But I liked the idea of Derek as a teacher and I wanted to write something ridiculous and domestic. So this is it.

Stiles usually stopped past his classroom when he was at the school on business, so Derek was a little bit accustomed to looking up and seeing him standing there in his uniform, hands resting on his belt, just nodding in the door. There was quite a part of Derek that never got over seeing Stiles in that familiar uniform, his biceps straining against the khaki.

Derek couldn’t smile at him like he wanted. He couldn’t beam. There was an embarrassed part of him that recognized he did that too often around Stiles as it was. But he here he was Mr. Hale and he was in the middle of supervising a test that would count for a good chunk of this group’s final grade. The smell of nervous sweat was familiarly overwhelming. Instead Derek nodded at Stiles and tapped his watch. Stiles nodded but slipped into a seat at the back of the room.

The silent communication that had sprung up between them had been Derek’s first hint that they were going to be more than just tension relief for each other, something familiar and safe. The second hint had been Stiles combing his hair back from his face while Derek healed from yet another horrible wound, head pillowed against Stiles’ thighs. He’d whispered “I love you”, buried it into the meat of Stiles’ leg as he writhed in pain, just in case he never got another chance too. That one hadn’t so much been a hint, he guessed.

The clock ticked round to the bell and the class started getting minutely restless under his impassive gaze. There was a flurry of writing as the bell started to ring, but most of the kids were happy to throw down their pens and grab their stuff the moment Derek gave them the nod. A few of them waved at Stiles, a few hurried past with guilty glances but Stiles didn’t really do much other than nod as they went past, while Derek collected the tests, straightened chairs and worked his way to the back of the room.

“Hey,” Derek said, soft, as he nearer Stiles. “You here in an official capacity?”

“I was going to come arrest you like old times and take you to lunch, but yeah.” Stiles pushed himself to his feet. He looked tired, eyes red and sore. He’d been gone when Derek had gotten out of bed that morning. “There was an incident last night.”

“I didn’t smell any blood…” Derek took in a deep breath and sifted through the air. Canteen was serving hot dogs, someone had gotten off in the boy’s bathroom. But no blood.

“Off campus. Up in the woods.” A weird smile twisted across Stiles’ face and Derek automatically reached out a hand. Stiles’ grip was slightly damp and slightly too hard. He smelled of bad coffee. “It was pretty much a return to the bad old days. A junior and her boyfriend. Parents thought she was with a friend.”

“What did the friend say?” Derek leaned closer, brushing his shoulder against Stiles’. Stiles pressed against him, hard, before straightening up. He looked better as if he’d drawn strength from even that brief touch.

“The usual.” Stiles looked around the classroom. “You know, if you’d been teaching me history, I might have paid more attention.”

“You’re still not over the whole teacher thing, are you?” Derek squeezed Stiles’ hand once more before picking up the tests and wandering back towards his desk. He could feel Stiles’ eyes on his ass. “You be home for food?”

“Should be.” Stiles stretched up, cracking the tension across his back. Derek slung himself into his chair and watched Stiles head towards the door. He was just as guilty as Stiles of watching the other’s ass, admiring the cut in his uniform pants. “You still like the cop thing too.”

“I like you,” Derek said, just as Stiles curled his hand around the door handle. 

“When you say things like that, a whole lot of naughty schoolboy thoughts start working their way through the fog in my brain. Just so you know.” Stiles’ grin was wicked as he looked back at Derek. “You should totally fuck me over your desk.”

“I’d get fired,” Derek pointed out, trying not to let the image build in his brain. Because he could see that, Stiles’ pants pulled down just enough to bare his ass, his hole wet and sloppy from where Derek had used spit to slick him up, his mouth to open him up. “And I’d rather fuck you in our bed.”

Stiles nodded. “Yeah. That sounds good.”

Derek let the smile he’d wanted to give Stiles slip out as Stiles waved at him. “Later.”

“You bet.” Stiles waved as he took a steadying breath and opened the door. It was almost as if he was drawing the mantle of Officer Stilinski around himself as he stepped into the silent hallway. Derek listened to the squeak of his shoes as he made his way along the hallway, all the way out into the parking lot. It was only after the sound of the patrol car had faded away that Derek picked up his pen and began his marking.

 

The house was dark and still when Derek pulled into the driveway, no sign of Stiles’ familiar heartbeat. Derek grabbed the packet of essays from the passenger seat and headed in, grabbing the mail and switching on the porch light. When Stiles was home, that would have already been taken care of, but Derek knew that he couldn’t expect Stiles home for a bit yet. 

Derek wondered if he should stick on the TV as he dumped the mail on the hall table. They’d bought the house together, both deciding they wanted somewhere bigger than most of the apartments they’d looked at, somewhere with a back yard. It was slightly more than both of their salaries could really cope with, but Stiles had some money from an aunt and Derek had managed to get a decent price for the loft. There were still rooms unfurnished but it wasn’t like there was a hurry to buy a guest bed. Scott was happy enough with the sofa when he slept over.

In the end, Derek stuck the essays on the counter and went down to the basement. They’d kitted it up as a gym and he’d been stuck behind a desk for most of the day. He loved teaching but sometimes he needed the exertion to get to sleep, to clear his mind. He grinned when he heard the patrol car pull into the drive and Stiles’ footsteps crossing the gravel. He didn’t stop, though, letting Stiles wander through the house to find him. The music blasting was probably a subtle hint as to his location though.

Stiles stopped in the doorway as Derek finished his reps. “Hey,” he said, again, when Derek twisted around to look at him. Stiles’ eyes were heavy again, but this time with something that made Derek a lot happier than the exhaustion earlier.

“I’m all sweaty,” he warned, as Stiles stalked closer. Stiles had untucked his shirt and unbuttoned it so it hung open, revealing his undershirt. Derek tucked his hands under the shirt and held on to Stiles’ hips. “And shirtless.”

“You are. It’s good you think you have to state the obvious. It’s always been something you’re good at.” Stiles swayed closer his forehead coming to rest on Derek’s. “But, yeah, you stink.”

“I was going to shower?” Derek left the invitation open as he got to his feet, still holding on Stiles’ hips. They hadn’t done that in a while, and they probably didn’t really have time tonight. Derek had essays to mark and Stiles was nearly fast asleep on his feet. They needed to eat and they really shouldn’t order take out again. But there was something in the way Stiles swayed against him, in the way his heartbeat ticked up, that made Derek want to forget all that.

The shower pressure sucked and Derek added that to his long list of home improvement, of things to tackle during the summer break. But Stiles was as responsive as ever as he turned beneath Derek’s hands, rested his back against Derek’s chest while Derek used the body wash as an excuse to let his hands roam all over Stiles’ body. 

“It’s nice,” Stiles said, almost inaudible. He’d know Derek would hear him. “Don’t feel like Officer Stilinski here.”

“Yeah?” Derek turned Stiles again, kissing him when Stiles looked at him with water drop drenched eyelashes. He could make a joke – another bad one, play it off – about Stiles getting fired but Derek knew himself well enough to know that his sense of humor didn’t always work. “Just Stiles?”

“Your Stiles.” It was sappy and almost ridiculous but Derek was glad he hadn’t ruined the mood. Stiles was slowly hardening against him as Derek held him close and he decided they were clean enough. A cursory toweling and he had Stiles spread out on the sheets. Unhurried, Derek kissed Stiles slowly and thoroughly.

“You’re gonna need to fuck me soon,” Stiles told Derek, as Derek ghosted a hand over his cock once more. “Because I’ve been up since five and there’s half a chance that when I get comfortable I am not going to move. I might even be okay with you fucking me when I’m asleep.” Derek reached out to grab the lube from the nightstand as Stiles continued. “That’s a kink, you know. Somnophilia.” 

“I don’t want to know how you know that.” Derek raised an eyebrow at Stiles, gratified that it got the response he wanted for once, as Stiles got a pillow under himself and spread his thighs even wider. It didn’t usually work. “And I prefer you awake.”

“Why’s that?” Stiles’ voice broke a little as Derek worked a finger in. Derek didn’t really wait before he was working two in, lube making a wet noise and Stiles letting out soft, punched moans.

“Because I like it when you make noises like that.” Derek said, plainly, leaning over to kiss him hard. “You ready?”

“Yeah,” Stiles whined, kicking at Derek’s back with his foot. He kept up his pout for about five seconds after Derek pulled his fingers out but it was gone by the time Derek had his cock slicked up and pressing in.

They’d done this so often Derek was surprised by how it always felt new and intimate. Stiles was tight and burning hot and his and yet there was always something special about that initial slide in, whether it was a quick rough fuck before work (or for, fun) or when both their vacation days matched up and they could take all day. It wasn’t like it had ever been with anyone else, for Derek at least. No one else kept up a constant stream of noise, loud enough that Derek worried the neighbors might hear sometimes, for one thing. But it was also the way Stiles smiled at him before kicking him to go faster, who hauled him into kisses in the middle of everything just to say hi.

“Derek!” Stiles snapped his name, and Derek automatically snapped his hips in response. “That’s better.”

“Jerk yourself off,” Derek suggested, adjusting his grip on Stiles’ hips. With just a little more pressure he’d leave fingertip bruises, faint enough that they’d be almost invisible. But Derek would know they were there. He waited until Stiles grabbed his own cock and watched the way the head gleamed as it fucked through the tunnel of Stiles’ hand. Stiles caught his eyes and nodded and Derek tightened his hands.

Stiles let out a stream of unintelligible words and worked his hand quicker. Derek forced himself to keep his eyes open, to watch the ridiculous faces that Stiles pulled as he came, hard. Then he let himself close his eyes and give in to the urge to come himself.

Stiles didn’t move as Derek pulled out and he flapped a hand when Derek stood up that Derek took as an order to grab a washcloth. Derek guessed he was right when Stiles made soft, contented noises. Stiles didn’t even complain when Derek threw a clean pair of boxers onto his chest.

“I’m going to order something,” Derek said, as Stiles tried to get the boxers on with minimal movement. “Mexican? Pizza?”

“I don’t really need to eat.” Stiles tossed the pillow he’d been propped up on onto the floor and crawled beneath the blankets. “Honest.”

Derek took a long look at his boyfriend, contented and half-asleep. “Sandwiches,” he said, definitively.

“Quick, easy and eatable in bed?” Stiles said, blinking to keep his eyes open. “You should stick on the TV so I can…”

“Nope.” Derek avoided the half-hearted kick from under the sheets. “No more work tonight, Stiles.”

Stiles opened his mouth to argue but Derek headed out before he could say anything.

 

They made it all the way through the sandwiches and halfway through the cookies Derek had pulled from the back of the cupboard before Stiles brought it up.

“I’m going to need to get you to take a look. Just in case.” Stiles gathered a few loose crumbs with his thumb. “Scott’s out of town until next week or else I’d make him do it.”

“You think it’s supernatural?” Uneasiness made Derek’s stomach curdle. “Werewolf?”

“Probably not. Half of me wants it to be. The idea a person can do that shit is bad enough. On the other hand, I’d rather not face something that regular bullets don’t work on.” Stiles shifted to lie down as Derek took the tray out into the hallway. He’d take it down in the morning, before work. “This is Beacon Hills.”

Derek brushed his teeth slowly, thinking it through. Stiles was asleep by the time he came back to the bedroom, mouth open and small snores issuing freely. Derek wondered why he found it attractive. He switched off Stiles’ lamp and climbed in his own side, grabbing his book. Of course he’d go and check it out. He wouldn’t be checking it out just because it was the right thing to do, the responsible thing. He’d be doing it because Stiles asked him.

“Goodnight,” he murmured, brushing one last kiss across the tip of Stiles’ elbow where it sprawled across his pillow. 

Stiles smiled in his sleep.


End file.
